adventures in babysitting
by kubla2
Summary: ella's got a new babysitter...cordano friendship
1. Default Chapter

Elizabeth walked into the lounge looking for coffee. Her shift was almost over, but she had an evening with an overactive toddler ahead of her. When she pushed the door open, Luka and Susan stopped their argument to look over at her. Then they separated and sat in silence in opposite corners of the couch.  
  
« End of round one ? » joked Elizabeth drily without really looking at them.  
  
« Susan thinks Romano needs to be checked into a locked ward. I think we've seen his first signs of sanity, » Luka summarized. Before Elizabeth could ask, his pager went off and he got up to leave.  
  
Elizabeth looked after him for a second, shrugged, and then finished pouring her coffee. When she sat down at the table, Susan started in. « You're not even going to ask ? » she prodded.  
  
Elizabeth sighed. The looking directly at Susan she decided to set the record straight. « Look, Susan. Everyone here seems to think that Dr Romano and I have this 'special relationship.' I don't know how you all got that idea, but.. »  
  
Susan interrupted, « Maybe it's because you do. There's a connection there, Elizabeth. » When Elizabeth started to protest, Susan continued, « I'm not saying that you should get together, but he could maybe use a friend, you know ? »  
  
« Why can't someone else befriend him ? » Elizabeth asked annoyed. « Alright. What happened ? » she aksed finally taking the bait.  
  
Susan smiled as if she'd won, but then her expression tightened as she remembered Romano's reaction to the trauma.  
  
« 20 year old girl. MVA. Paramedic said that she had gasped something about organ donation just before they lost her. She was too messed up, though. Romano knew. He just took her hand and waved the team away. He just watched her die. He put his head down, but we could see that he was crying. Just weeping really quietly. But for a long time. Elizabeth. Romano was crying. » Susan weighed the last words to make sure Elizabeth got the full impact.  
  
« I see, » she said evenly. « Well, maybe he just felt sad. »  
  
« Elizabeth ! » Susan exclaimed in exasperation.  
  
« Alright, Susan. I've got it. He's a little bit unstable right now. » And she thought to herself : Definitely NOT the best time for me to get involved.  
  
Then more patiently to Susan. « Susan. I am concerned. But he needs to work through this. He needs to figure it out for himself. We can't tell Robert that he needs to take a vacation or see a shrink. He doesn't listen. Why should I talk to him ? »  
  
« He listens to you. » Susan felt her pager throb and decided she'd had enough of the conversation anyway. **  
  
As Elizabeth started for home with Ella flailing in the car seat, she flipped on the radio. « Crying over you » was playing. Depressing she thought as she pushed the button. « Tracks of my tears » was on the next preset. Good god, she griped. The next one was not about crying, it was happy, she thought, until she got to the chorus : « You've got a friend. » Fine ! she muttered, turning the wheel to head to Romano's.  
  
**  
  
When she got to the door with Ella squirming in her arms, she somehow coaxed the little girl to ring the bell. But once the game was started, it was out of control. When Elizabeth pulled Ella away, she screamed to ring it again. When she let her, Ella pushed the bell hard and the chimes sounded for the third time. « Enough, Ella, » she scolded impatiently, but Ella wailed for one more time.  
  
At the third ring, the door opened and a pretty blonde girl grinned at them. Elizabeth ws stunned for a moment and then came up with, « If this is a bad time, um. »  
  
Just then Romano rounded the corner from the kitchen, wearing an apron, an oven mitt on his good hand and a slightly annoyed expression which turned to quick surprise when he saw Elizabeth.  
  
« Robert, I, um, I should have called, um, I'll see you. » she started to turn, but Ella slipped from her arms and ran to Robert. « Cook ? » she piped. « Hmhm, » Robert nodded with amusement. « Cook ! Cook ! » Ella jumped up and down in excitement. Ella loved the rare times when Elizabeth would spend the afternoon with her in the kitchen, playing with cookie dough or cupcake icing.  
  
The blonde's smile widened as she reached for Ella's hand. « Do you want to lick the bowl with me ? » she asked. Ella grabbed the hand to go, but then guiltily looked over one shoulder at her all-but-forgotten mother still standing in the doorway.  
  
« Robert, » Elizabeth hesitated.  
  
« It's alright. » Robert smiled. « If she likes chocolate chips. » Elizabeth nodded and then looked at Ella. « Okay, sweetie,' and then at the blonde, « Just a spoonful, okay. She hasn't had dinner. » The girl nodded and smiled and then looked down at Ella. « Let's go ! »  
  
When Ella and her new friend had disappeared into the kitchen, Elizabeth caught her breath. « Robert. I'm so sorry to disturb you at home. » She coughed. What to say about the girl. « Especially since you have, um, company, and.. »  
  
« Tess isn't company, » he replied. « She lives here. »  
  
« Oh, » choked Elizabeth. So much for him being sad and alone. Dammit, Susan, she thought. He's shacked up with a twenty-year-old.  
  
« Oh Robert ! Oh Uncle Bobby ! » a teasing voice called from the kitchen. When Robert and the suddenly shamefaced Elizabeth walked into the kitchen, they saw both Tess, Ella, the cupboards and the counter tops covered in powdery white confectioners sugar. As Elizabeth's faced wrinkled in consternation, Ella's face wrinkled in fear of a scolding and turned red. She suddenly started to wail.  
  
« Hey ! » Robert, reacted quickly kneeling to comfort her. « It's okay. You just made it snow inside, that's all. » And he reached out his hand still covered with the oven mitt and patted her head. « There, there, » he awkwardly soothed her. Ella wanted a little more reassurance and teetered towards him until she had her head under his chin. Robert couldn't help but hug her and then lift her up with one arm and set her on the stool. He flipped off the mitt and traced his finger through the powder on the counter and then tasted it. « Not bad for snow, » he explained to Ella. She imitated his move, thoughtfully licking her own finger tip. « Yum ! » she smiled through her tears.  
  
« Alright Ella, » Elizabeth intervened. « I think that's enough for now, » she said scooping her up. « Robert. I'm sorry. I should have warned you that she's going through a destructive phase. It's like bringing a time bomb to your home. »  
  
Robert laughed and shook his head. « It's okay. For an explosion, this one's alright. Kind of sweet, really, » he added as he picked up a fork covered in sugar, licked it off, and tossed it into the sink.  
  
« I just couldn't keep my hands on her and her hands away from the bag. Sorry, » Tess explained with an embarrassed shrug.  
  
« It's a good thing that you're on clean up tonight, » Robert reminded.  
  
« Hey. That's not fair. » Tess protested laughingly.  
  
Elizabeth wanted to get out of there, but she didn't want to interrupt.  
  
« If you get it done now, you may consider the meal I've made for you your little reward. I mean after your creation of salsa-spiked kraft dinner last night.. » Robert teased.  
  
Tess rolled her eyes. « Yes master of all things culinary, I bow to you. I humbly clean your kitchen for the hope of tasting your amazing creations. I will now take sponge in hand to work toward the reward of eating the awesome feast with which you honor me. » Then changing her attitude, she retorted, « What is it again ? Chicken ? »  
  
Robert swatted her playfully and grabbed a sponge to help. Then turned back to Elizabeth. « Oh hey, want to stay for dinner ? »  
  
« N-no, » Elizabeth stuttered. « But we should probably help with the cleaning, I mean. ..»  
  
« Look, » objected Tess, « they sort of go together in this house, « even though I somehow seem to get stuck with more of the cleaning than he does. I mean, what's the housekeeper paid for anyway ? Besides putting on that French maid's outfit..»  
  
« Tess. » Robert corrected her. « What ? » she teased. « Brat ! » he joked back.  
  
Elizabeth seemed at a loss, just watching Robert and Tess clean the counter when the oven timer went off. « Done ! » he exclaimed. « Lizzie ! » he belted. « Set the table ! » and he gestured with his head towards some cabinets. « Ella ! » he teased, « come with me. » And he absconded with a sticky-handed toddler to the washroom.  
  
Elizabeth turned to Tess. She was pulling a roasting pan from the oven and gorgeous smells were wafting out with it. « You won't regret it. Especially the dessert ! » Tess promised with dancing eyes.  
  
Elizabeth found herself, a few minutes later, setting a huge table already laid with a white cloth. A big mistake with Ella around she thought. In a few minutes, Robert was back with Ella by the hand. He pulled her with him to the living room from which they reemerged with some sofa cushions. « So she can reach the table, » he explained to Elizabeth.  
  
« Really, Robert, » Elizabeth pleaded. « We weren't invited. »  
  
« Yes you were. By me. Just now. » He cut her off.  
  
« And besides, » he smiled, « Ella told me that she hasn't had a decent meal in ages. »  
  
Elizabeth was about to scold Ella when she realized that the speech act to which Robert alluded was completely fabricated to annoy her.  
  
« Alright. » She gave up, sitting down in a chair and pulling another toward her for Ella. « What's on the menu ? »  
  
**  
  
The dinner was delicious, she had to admit to herself. Roasted chicken, potatoes and veggies, spinach cooked with some sort of Italian ham, fresh rolls, and then these amazingly sweet and crunchy cannoli for dessert. Elizabeth didn't know how Robert had managed pastry with one arm, but she wasn't going to ask.  
  
When it was all over, Ella was sleepy and so was Elizabeth, filled with good food, a glass of wine and happiness. Robert's niece was a sweet girl, an art student interning at the Institute this semester. Robert obviously adored her. And with her around, he was so different. Well, still sarcastic, teasing, bossy, but in a way that just barely hid a sort of unexpected sweetness. Hmm, thought Elizabeth, licking the last of the powdered sugar off of her lips.  
  
Ella's little body sagged against her, and she was about to pick her up and begin their goodbyes, when Tess pulled the child into her arms and walked her into the living room. « We'll just enjoy the fire for a minute while you and Uncle Rob talk blood and guts. »  
  
Oh thought Elizabeth. Back to business.  
  
Robert looked at her carefully. He knew that she hadn't come by to have dinner with him. He had tricked her into staying. And he had tried to avoid hearing whatever it was she wanted to say to him.. Sure to be unpleasant. She seemed the spokesperson always elected by the staff to transmit grievances. She was the bearer of bad news from below but also above. Oh God, he thought, was Kerry firing him ? Again. Well, he rationalized, she would want to do it herself. Oh no, he thought, she'd know it would hurt most coming from Elizabeth. His eyes turned down. He just waited. At least Tess was here. Not that he wanted to be humiliated in front of his niece. But her happy presence comforted him. Made him think that there was something else besides pain, death, failure.  
  
Elizabeth could see his mind working and she realized that he was probably imagining something much worse than what she was going to say : The staff is concerned about your emotional wellbeing. Then she thought, I should be. I should be concerned about you. I should speak for myself. But you seem to be doing so well tonight. Happy. Warm. Hmmm.  
  
Silence.  
  
She just reached over and took his hand. « Thanks for dinner , » she said softly and with a smile.  
  
When she went to collect Ella, the child was awake and playing hide and seek with Tess behind the ample array of pillows thrown around the room. « Oh no, » thought Elizabeth.  
  
« I like this new decorative scheme we have going, Tessie. Chromatic chaos, let's call it. » Robert laughed. « Alright Hurricane Ella, time for you to go home. » Ella's face wrinkled in protest again. She clung to Tess. « Tessie ! » « Well, » reasoned Robert pointing at Tess, « if you want, I suppose you could take her with you. »  
  
Tess looked mildly irritated and explained to Ella. « Listen Ella, it's time for bed for everyone, but if your mom says it's okay, I'd like to play with you again soon. » Tess looked up, « I babysit, » she mouthed.  
  
« She works cheap, » Robert joked.  
  
« Come on, » he motioned as Tess picked up Ella. They all walked out to the car and when Elizabeth pulled away, Tess and Robert waved, her arm wrapped around him to huddle for warmth against the cold autumn air.  
  
**  
  
A few nights later, Elizabeth was pacing. She had just looked at her watch for the tenth time. Where was Kris ? She was never late. Elizabeth was meeting Edward in an hour.  
  
Then her phone rang. Kris. Car trouble. Two hours outside of the city. Something about pumpkins. « It's okay, » Elizabeth murmured as tears clouded her eyes. She had really been looking forward to getting out. She was so tired of nights spent in front of the cartoon channel. She loved her daughter, but she needed a grown up in her life too. A man. And Dorsett had conveniently materialized. And now she'd have to cancel. Again. Unless.  
  
And witout thinking too hard, she dialed Robert's number, programmed into her cell phone. « Hi. Tess. It's Elizabeth. Ella's mother. . »  
  
Half an hour later Tess rolled up the drive in her uncle's jaguar. She bounded up the walk and greeted Ella with a big smile. Ella obviously remembered her and squeeled excitedly. « Okay, Ella, okay, » said Elizabeth, holding onto her shirt so that she wouldn't run out without shoes on.  
  
Elizabeth was nervous about leaving Ella with a new person for the first time, but she still had a few minutes to go over the house rules before she really had to go. Twenty minutes later, after writing lists of numbers, demonstrating the microwave and fretting, Elizabeth kissed Ella good bye and got into her minivan to meet her date. She smiled. Dating. Hmmm.  
  
After waiting for half and hour in the restaurant, alone, her phone rang. Dorsett caught in surgery. Cancelling. Well, thought Elizabeth, finishing her glass of wine, Tess might still be in one piece if I go home now. And she did. And she was.  
  
Tess and Ella were painting with water colors, lying flat on the kitchen floor working together on a large sheet of brown paper. « Hey you two ! » Elizabeth crooned, happy to see Ella behaving so well as she quietly concentrated on the brown of a tree trunk.  
  
« Shh, » joked Tess, « the artist is at work. » Then she curled into a sitting posture. « Is this a spot check ? »  
  
« No, » Elizabeth explained, « just an early night. Sorry. I'll still pay you for the whole evening. » Tess shrugged. « I'm not here for the money. Just to spy for my uncle, » Tess grinned mischievously. When she saw Elizabeth wasn't laughing she quickly corrected, « I was joking. Really. He told me to be good and to go easy on your refrigerator. He complains that I eat him out of house and home »  
  
Elizabeth laughed then. She imagined the affectionate jibes that niece and uncle shared. Ella looked up at her mother's unaccustomed laugh and smiled. « Mommy. Pretty. »  
  
Elizabeth didn't know if she meant her or the painting, so she just nodded.  
  
« Well, » Tess added, « I'll just surprise uncle Rob with an early return, I guess. Maybe I'll catch him with his hand in the cookie jar. » Elizabeth handed her a twenty and Tess crumpled it into her jeans pocket and fished out car keys from the other. She hugged Ella who was still absorbed in her painting and tiptoed out the door to avoid a long goodbye.  
  
Twenty minutes later she knocked. « Elizabeth. I'm so sorry. Can I call my uncle ? The car won't start. » « Uh-oh, » Elizabeth teased. « Sure. Come back inside. »  
  
After a few minutes on the phone, Tess put down the receiver and ran outside to look at something. She came back in looking worried. « I'm so sorry, Uncle Rob. I thought that if I.. » Robert obviously cut her off. She nodded, smiled and said goodbye.  
  
« I forgot to have the oil changed. I've burned out the engine. On his JAG. » Tess lowered her head into her hands in despair. « Is he furious ? » Elizabeth asked, « Because if you want to stay.. » Tess looked up in surprise, « No. He's totally cool. I just feel really rotten. He trusted me to be responsible, and I blew it. He told me to call a cab for now and he'd call the tow truck in the morning. »  
  
« Look » reasoned Elizabeth, «I'll drive you home. It's still early. And you'll wait an hour for a cab. And I'll never get Ella to bed if you're still here. » She felt sorry for the girl, who looked positively miserable. Even if Robert hadn't laid into her on the phone, maybe Elizabeth should run some sort of interference at home, she thought.  
  
When they got to Robert's place, Tess thanked Elizabeth and said goodbye again. When she got to the door, Elizabeth waited for a minute. Robert opened on the first ring and she could see his face in the bright light. He was smiling and held out a steaming mug of something to Tess. She took it and as she did he kissed her on the forehead and then hugged her.  
  
Elizabeth shook her head. If a colleague at work had broken Robert's ball point pen, he would have read them the riot act. When his niece destroyed his car, he hugged her. But, Elizabeth realized, Tess already seemed to get the lesson : trust, responsibility, were the words she'd used. She was so sad to have let him down. And there he was, not letting her down. As Elizabeth pondered this quietly with Ella dozing in the car seat, she heard a knock on the window. Which startled her and awakened Ella. It was Robert.  
  
« Is car trouble contagious ? » he asked. Elizabeth shook her head. « Well, thanks for driving her, » he added. Then he quirked an eyebrow and asked, « Any ideas on making her feel less miserable ? »  
  
Elizabeth smiled. « She killed your car. You don't have to cheer her up. »  
  
Robert smiled back. « I'll remember that the next time a med student kills a patient. Well, I guess I'll just follow my instincts. »  
  
« Which are ? » laughed Elizabeth.  
  
« Hot chocolate, » he replied. « Chocolate, » begged Ella from the back seat. « Tessie ! »  
  
And somehow Elizabeth found herself a few minutes later on Robert's couch, drinking hot cocoa while Ella played with Tess and Robert played with the fireplace. It was only about 9 on a Saturday night. Past Ella's bedtime, but not close to hers. Robert didn't ask her about her canceled plans, just if she was hungry. When she nodded, he asked : « Popcorn, Pretzels, Pound cake ? » « What happened to roasted chicken ? » she asked. « All gone, » I'm afraid. But I did make the cake tonight. Elizabeth nodded and went to help him. « Is baking part of your occupational therapy ? » she joked. « No, » he answered, « I just like to do it when Tess is here. Just makes me feel like I'm taking care of her, I guess.»  
  
When Elizabeth and Robert returned from the kitchen with think slices of cake and a heaping bowl of strawberries, Ella was asleep in front of the fire in a nest of sofa cushions and Tess curled up next to her enraptured by the first scenes of an old black and white movie starting on TV.  
  
Elizabeth and Robert sat down quietly on the couch, smiling at the cosy scene and started watching the movie, too. Elizabeth thought about leaving when she was done eating her cake, but somehting about the warmth of the fire made her limbs feel weak, as if they had melted into the sofa. Robert was sitting quietly in his corner, watching the movie, and every so often smiling a little when the sight of the two blonde heads sharing a pillow in front of the fire caught his eye. Elizabeth had to admit to herself that this was one of the most relaxing evenings she'd spent in a while and sighed as she changed her position on the couch. Oh no, she thought as Robert looked over, but he just smiled and offered her a blanket, wanting her to be comfortable, wondering if she'd stay.  
  
A moment later, at the commercial, Tess softly stood up to go to the washroom, but not silently enough. Ella woke up and looked around, confused and grumpy. Before Elizabeth could twist herself out of the blanket, Robert patted the spot on the couch between them and Ella clambered up. Then, instead of snuggling with her mom, she decided that Robert's red sweater seemed softer and cuddled against him, smiled happily, and dropped right back off to sleep. Elizabeth looked surprised but Robert just whispered with a mischievous little smile, « Blondes. They always go for me ! »  
  
As Tess returned from behind the couch, she heard the comment and playfully prodded her uncle's shoulder. He looked at her and whispered still grinning, « You know it's true. » Tess grinned back and nodded, sliding onto the couch between Elizabeth and Ella, so that the toddler was curled up between herself and her uncle. Robert kissed both blonde heads and looked totally satisfied with his evening, making Elizabeth wonder about all she had never discovered about him. She just shook her head and turned back to the movie.  
  
When it was done, she stood up, stretched, and finally extricated Ella who protested only feebly. « Past both of our bedtimes, now, sweet pea, » Elizabeth whispered to her daughter. She smiled at Robert over her daughter's head. « Thanks for tonight. We had fun. » He shrugged. « I'll work on the menu for next time, » he joked.  
  
As Elizabeth was about to say something about not bothering him again, no need for a next time, she caught herself. Why hurt his feelings ? And why couldn't there be a next time ? He hadn't tried to make the evening anything more than what it was. He had seemed more interested in the kids than in her. But he had shown her a sort of sweet attentiveness, nonetheless : the cake, the blanket, the smile. She felt so warm all of the sudden, thinking of that smile, wondering how warm it would be if, like Ella, she had curled up against Robert on the couch. She blinked the image away.  
  
« Lizzie, » he reached out with concern and she instinctively stepped back. He dropped his hand suddenly, stepped back too. « Are you okay to drive ? » he asked. « Drink too much hot chocolate ? » he joked trying to make the stupid awkwardness go unnoticed, even though he was fully aware that Tess had seen Elizabeth's obvious rejection of his smallest move towards her.  
  
« A little sleepy, but I'll be fine as soon as I take a breath of night air. We should go. » she reiterated reaching for Ella's coat. « You'll wake her, » interrupted Tess, and just draped a blanket around Ella and helped Elizabeth carry her things out to the car. Robert stayed behind, feeling the warmth of the evening slowly cool as the door opened and the night blew in, as the fire died, as Elizabeth left. When Tess came back in, he was clearing up cups and plates and pillows. She touched his shoulder gently to get his attention, but had to almost grab it to make him look at her.  
  
« Uncle Rob ? » she started, not knowing what she was allowed to ask.  
  
He smiled sadly. « It's complicated, » was all he said and just went on cleaning up the coffee table.  
  
**  
  
A couple of weeks later, after two dates with Edward, Elizabeth was spending an evening off at home alone. She made a snack for herself and Ella and curled up on the couch to read while Ella drowsed. Suddenly she was paged, and after a few calls, she found herself calling Tess again.  
  
Once the emergency surgeries were over and Elizabeth was back home, she paid Tess and walked her to the door. As the girl stood on the porch, she turned back, her big, brown eyes reminding Elizabeth very much of Robert's. « Elizabeth ? » she began. « Yes, ? » Elizabeth replied. « Nothing. » Tess shook her head, walked back to the ar, and drove away.  
  
**  
  
It was Halloween. And Elizabeth wasn't supposed to be called in. But she was. After calling down her list, she got to Tess again but hesitated. She remembered the weird moment last time. Tess was about to ask her about her and Robert. She knew that. She wasn't sure just what the girl knew or wanted to know. But somehow Elizabeth knew that Robert hadn't said anything. All Tess knew was what she'd sensed. And seen. That when Robert moved towards her, Elizabeth moved away.  
  
As the minutes ticked on and Ella was more and more fidgety in her cat in the hat costume, Elizabeth had to make a decision. Alright. One last time. She would ask Tess to watch Ella. But at the end of the evening, she would sit down with the girl and explain that that would have to be the last time. That things between Robert and herself were complicated. That . she was dialing and thinking at the same time and was startled when Robert picked up.  
  
« Robert, it's Elizabeth, » she rushed, « Is Tess there by any chance ? » « Not right now, but I expect her for dinner. Should I have her call you ? » he said in a brisk, professional tone. Elizabeth froze. Why had she expected the girl to be there every time she needed her ? Elizabeth sighed a little loudly. « Lizzie ? » Robert prompted. « Well, it was actually a sort of babysitting emergency, but that's alright.. » « She'll be home soon, » Robert attempted. « No, it's okay, um, it's fine, maybe another time» Elizabeth responded despondently. « So what are you going to do, take Ella in with you ? » Robert demanded. « Look Robert, » Elizabeth was about to tell him off, to tell him that it wasn't any of his business, but she was the one who had called him and really his voice sounded more worried than anything else. « We both know what tonigth will be like at County, » Robert continued. « Just drop her off here, Elizabeth. Tess will be back soon. It's fine. » « But, » Elizabeth began, but her pager went off again and Robert cut in, « I heard that ! Come on Lizzie, I promise no scary movies and no poisoned candy at this house. » He stopped. « Maybe you think I'm too scary.. » « Oh no, Robert ! » she quickly spluttered. « It's just, I don't want to cause you any trouble. » Elizabeth hesitated. « Just bring me your daughter. She's a lot less trouble than you. » Robert countered and hung up.  
  
**  
  
When Elizabeth arrived at Robert's she was surprised to see pumpkins and Halloween decorations in front of the house. She quickly pulled Ella from the car, deciding to move fast before she changed her mind about this whole plan. Ella ran for the house without hesitation, repeating : « Punkin, punkin, » and making straight for the jack-o-lanterns.  
  
Robert opened the door with a laugh. « Who's in my pumpkin patch ? » he teased. Ella giggled and Elizabeth's brow smoothed as she thought that this might work for at least a little while. As she was about to give Robert further instructions, her pager beeped madly and he waved her away, as he crouched down next to Ella to show her the different faces he and Tess had carved into the pumpkins. Hadn't had that much fun with a scalpel in ages, he thought to himself.  
  
Later that night, Elizabeth finally made it out to the hospital garage and started her car. She had avoided calling Robert's place during the shift, afraid of what she might find out. Now she had to go face him. Hopefully Tess had taken over and Robert didn't have to run after her toddler all evening.  
  
At around one a.m. she pulled up his drive. The lights were on. Good sign. She knocked softly and he opened the door. « I'm out of candy, » he joked. She was too tired to retort and just slumped a bit. « Elizabeth ! « He encouraged. « Come in ! » She did and looked around. A fire, soft music, a cinnamon smell in the air. She relaxed a little and smiled. « Bit by the baking bug again ? » she asked him. « Not tonight. It's just hot cider. Want some ? » But as she was protesting, he disappeared to get her a mug, and she stretched and sat down on the now familiar couch, looking around for signs of Tess. Or Ella. But she was too tired to move.  
  
« Ella's sleeping in the guestroom, » Robert nodded towards a half-open door. « Oh, I hope she was good for you tonight. For Tess, I mean.,» Elizabeth answered. « She was, » smiled Robert. Then, the front door opened, and Tess came in. Elizabeth shot Robert a puzzled look. « She got invited to a Halloween party, so I took over the babysitting job. I charge a little more, but I'm worth it. Ask Ella. »  
  
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. She had dumped Ella off on her senior colleague for a full evening. What had he done with her ? What had she done to his beautiful home ?  
  
Robert laughed. « I's okay. We had a good time. We trick or treated for a while, but Ella had more fun just answering my door and handing out candy to the other kids. Tis better to give than to receive, I guess. Anyway, she went down around 9 :30. »  
  
« Oh, Robert ! » Elizabeth breathed, grateful, exhausted. « I'm so. »  
  
« Tired, » Robert finished. « Look, it's late. You could stay with her in the guest room. » He paused and added. « I have an early shift, so I'd be gone when you wake up.. »  
  
« Oh no. I couldn't, » Elizabeth started to feel really embarrassed. Tess had noticed the tension between them and was waiting to see what was going on.  
  
« Okay, » Robert agreed. « Well, her things are all packed up in a bag next to the bed.. »  
  
Elizabeth put down her mug, stood and walked towards the guestroom, Tess stood too, said, « Well, good-night, » and walked upstairs. Robert stood and just waited for Elizabeth to come out with Ella so that he could walk them to the door. When she didn't come back right away, though, he followed her into the guestroom.  
  
Elizabeth was sitting on the bed stroking Ella's cheek. Stroking the faded marks of makeup from where cat whiskers had been drawn on and washed off. And crying quietly. Robert cleared his throat. She didn't look up but whispered. « Second Halloween in a row. That I've missed. I don't even like Halloween. » Elizabeth gulped back a sob, « I hate my life sometimes. » « Hey, » Robert sat down on the big bed near her but not too near. She felt his weight just behind her, his chest close to her back. And she closed her eyes and leaned against him.  
  
Robert did nothing. Just sat there. Still. Waiting. And suddenly Elizabeth turned and wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder. Robert hesitated then moved his arm around her back and pressed her gently to him. « Shhh. It's okay. You're just tired. You'll feel fine in the morning.» he reassured her. « Stay here tonight. » And she nodded. He separated himself from her and stood up. « Goodnight Elizabeth, » he whispered.  
  
**  
  
The next day Tess knocked softly and brought in coffee for Elizabeth. Ella had been up for hours and was playing with her cheerios in the kitchen and singing a soft little song. « Uncle Rob said you were on at ten, » Tess explained. « Thank you, » Elizabeth yawned.  
  
As Tess turned to go, Elizabeth asked her to stay for a minute. « Tess, » she began, « I don't know how to explain to you why I can't be with him, but I just can't, » she offered. « I know it's not easy to understand. » She propped herself into a seated position, wrapped in one of Robert's robes. Tess tried to stop before things got too weird, but Elizabeth continued, « Sometimes, I don't even understand why myself, » she mused. « But we have this past, and. » Hearing her mother's voice, Ella had toddled in to say hello. Elizabeth reached for her, and Tess managed to slip out during the diversion. Probably a good thing since Elizabeth didn't know what more to say.  
  
**  
  
November. Cold, grey, depressing. Elizabeth had lost a series of patients and was feling frustrated by her inability to just move on. She found herself morosely rereading their files, trying to find her mistake even though their infections or complications were not her fault at all.  
  
She decided to put herself on call in the ER for a week. Masochism, she wondered ? Punishment ? Just because then she couldn't blame herself. Most of the cases were lost causes when they came in, and there wasn't much time to think about them anyway.  
  
After a few hours down in the ER, she started to notice that things were somehow different. Robert wasn't just off but he'd been away for several days. Elizabeth wanted to know more, but she found herself embarrassed to ask. When she got a break, she impetuously called his home number but just got voice mail. Was he alright ? Was he sick ? Was he depressed ? Perhaps he wasn't coping as well as she thought.  
  
After work, she even drove by his house, but it was dark and she didn't stop.  
  
The next morning though, she heard his voice and a strange wave of relief washed over her. He's okay, she thought. He's here.  
  
Later, when they worked on a simple case together, she noticed that he was almost friendly to the patient, although he remained perfectly professional to her. They left the room together and in a spontaneous gesture, she grabbed his arm. Robert froze and then carefully turned toward her, waiting for her to explain this uncharacteristic action. « Um, » she started, « you were um, not down here yesterday. » Robert smiled. « Took some time. I never took much leave last year, despite everything, and I had some days to use » he explained without really explaining. « Oh. » Elizabeth answered, letting him go.  
  
She looked down, disappointed tht he hadn't told her more. Both of their pageres started to beep just then and she shook herself out of it and shrugged. As they started in opposite directions, he called back over his shoulder. « I took Tess to Rome. We'll give you a slide show if you want. Call me. » And with a sort of cocky grin he turned and headed down the hall. 


	2. ch 2

A few days later Elizabeth was leaving a meeting with the surgical staff and returning to her office when she heard someone calling her name. She turned to see Tess. "Hello stranger!" she exclaimed. "Good to see you!" Tess returned Elizabeth's greeting with a smile and then a slight blush as she looked down at the large, brightly wrapped box she was carrying.

"I've been trying to get Uncle Rob to invite you over ever since we've been back, but I guess he's still recovering from the trip," Tess half apologized. Elizabeth shook her head and mustered a little laugh. "He did mention something about slides. Sounded more like a threat, so I never followed up."

"Well, anyway, we got this present for Ella, and I just wanted her to have it," Tess mumbled in growing embarrassment.

"That's so sweet of you both. Really!" Elizabeth reassured gently taking the box. "I'm sure she'll love it."

"I should go. I'm supposed to meet Uncle Rob for lunch ..." Tess said she was going but she didn't move. Elizabeth realized that she wanted to ask Elizabeth to join them, but just then she felt her pager buzz and took a peek at it. "E.R.," she explained to Tess. "I don't know it your uncle will be free for lunch after all." Elizabeth quickly stowed the box in her office and ran down to the ER.

Several hours later, when she had finished a rather complicated series of skin grafts on a child, Elizabeth decided to head back to the ER to see how other family member were recovering from the fire. She heard Robert's voice before she saw him, speaking softly, his words barely audible above the sobs of a middle-aged Latino man. His wife and two other children had succombed to smoke inhalation, Robert was explaining, but the youngest child was fighting for his life upstairs. "The very best surgeon I know is helping him," Robert assured the man. "You have to help him, too. You have to be strong for him," Robert was encouraging. The man was shaking his head, refusing to leave the bodies of his daughters. Robert looked at the floor uncertain and Elizabeth was about to step in when she saw him gently begin to push another gurney over from the adjoining curtain. The man gasped at the sight of his wife, her body covered with a yellow sheet stained deeply with blood from her open chest. "Let her watch over these two. You go upstairs and be with your son. She would want you to be with him. He's the youngest, isn't he?" Robert asked. The man nodded. "He needs you," Robert took the man gently by the arm and guided him towards the door. When the emerged from the curtain area, Elizabeth met them. "Mr. Fuentes?" she asked. He nodded again and Robert's eyes met hers, silently consigning this man to her care, trusting her to take over. As Elizabeth led him to the elevator, the man looked back at Robert, who nodded encouragement. The man turned toward Elizabeth and the open doors and they both disappeared into the elevator.

The next morning, Elizabeth rolled to slap her alarm and grabbed for the phone. She wanted to check her last patient, Miguel Fuentes and to have someone tell his father she'd be in soon. Once that was done, she tried to shake the feeling of guilt she had had upon leaving the man last night in recovery, a man who had lost most of his family and whose last remaining child would soon be waking to unbelievable pain. She knew that this part of recovery was the worst for patients but also for parents, but she couldn't be there for each one all the time. She had her own family, her own feelings to think about.

Just then she heard Ella chirping from her room, probably playing with the new pumpkin shaped pillows Elizabeth had gotten her for Halloween. Elizabeth went to see, but found her instead sitting on the floor of the hallway, pulling at the ribbons on the box that held Robert's gift. Elizabeth had set it outside of Ella's bedroom door last night, thinking it was safe there. She made a mental note that she'd have to be cannier with the Christmas presents now that Ella was walking.

"Alright," she declared, scooping up Ella in one arm and the box in the other. "Breakfast first." And they ambled downstairs for cereal and juice.

When Ella was finished with her cheerios, Elizabeth wiped her sticky fingers and took her into the living room to open the present. Inside the box and covered in tissue paper was a hand-carved wooden Pinocchio marionette. Elizabeth wasn't sure how to use the strings, but she tried to make the toy do a little dance for Ella which made the child laugh and clap. Under the toy was the book that told Pinocchio's story, not the Disney version but a vintage Italian children's book with beautiful, hand-colored illustrations. She showed Ella a few of the pictures and promised to read her the story that night (although since she didn't know Italian, she'd have to follow the pictures and make up the plot as she went). Just then, the babysitter arrived and Elizabeth let her take over Ella's morning activities while she cleared up the ribbons and wrapping paper and carried the gifts back upstairs.

As she did, she heard something knocking around at the bottom of the box, and when she got to her bedroom she felt around to find a small, flat box she hadn't opened. She shook it gently, and then removed the top. There was a yellow post-it note looking slightly out of place on top of carefully folded tissue paper. On it was written the brief message: "I know he bought these for you, so I slipped them into Ella's box. Tess." Under the paper were two delicate ebony combs inlaid with mother-of -pearl. Elizabeth imagined the old-fashioned, upswept hairstyles that demanded these sorts of ornaments, and the elegant ladies who wore them. She felt that if she put them in her own hair, she'd be transported back into a faraway, magical, and more romantic time. And then it came to her, and she felt her heart thump and dropped the box. Robert had bought her this sweet, personal, extremely special gift. He had been an ocean away thinking of her.

As soon as she arrived at the hospital, she went to the burn unit to see the Fuentes family, but to her surprise Robert had beat her to it. He was explaining the careful dosage the pain meds that would be necessary to keep Miguel comfortable without slowing his heart. He had a page ripped from a wall calendar and was noting on it approximate dates for the next procedures as well as some other milestones for recovery like sitting, eating, and eventually walking again. Elizabeth knocked to warn them of her interruption, aware that Robert might not want to be surprised spending extra time with a patient much less a parent who technically was no longer his concern. He looked up and his brow wrinkled with the sort of annoyed embarrassment Elizabeth had already seen in the rare situations where Robert had let his repressed humanity surface. She looked away to let him recover, smiled at Mr Fuentes, and then went to examine Miguel. She heard Robert cough as she did so, perhaps trying to get her attention, but she ignored him. She realized that as an experienced surgeon, Robert had already performed an assessment of the grafts, but as the boy's doctor, Elizabeth had to redo it herself. With her back to him, she heard Robert say goodbye to the father. "Dr Corday will take excellent care of him," she heard him reassure Mr Fuentes before he opened the door to leave.

Late in the afternoon, she gazed into her coffe cup, exhausted. Perhaps emotionally exhausted more than anything else. She had spent the whole day since the Fuentes boy in the ER where she and Robert had dramatically disagreed about several surgical cases. Each time she tried to agree with him, he would provoke her, make her realize that he'd only been baiting her, that she had chosen the right course in the first place and that he was just testing her in a game of chicken to see who could most bravely do the most imaginary damage to the patient before giving in to the best treatment without appearing to give an inch to the other. She felt tears coming to the back of her eyes. Why was he being so difficult? Why couldn't they just work together?

Withough looking up, she noticed after a few minutes that someone had taken a seat beside her at her table in the cafeteria. She looked across the tabe without looking up and saw his hand, fingers nervously drumming against the side of a styrofoam cup.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie," she heard him say in a low, tired voice. Then a swallow. Then nothing. She looked up. He did look sorry. His eyes were dark and serious, his mouth turned down at the corners, contrite. As sorry as she felt for him at times, though, she was angry too, and wanted some sort of explanation. "Then why won't you stop bullying me? I thought we were over that?"

Robert shook his head, smiled ruefully. "You know I pull your pigtails 'cause I like you," he attempted, but Elizabeth wouldn't accept that answer which had worked for his behavior in the past but didn't explain his unrelenting bitterness toward her today. She shook her head in response, "That's not an answer, Robert. Not one I will accept anyway. Nor then is your apology," and she moved to leave.

"Elizabeth," he said, stopping her. "It's because I can tell a patient everything about his surgery, his recovery, his scars, about every procedure, about every risk, about every technique, but I can't do anything for anyone now. I talked to that man for hours, but I could do nothing to help his son."

Elizabeth sighed. At least he was honest. She wanted to tell him how much he had helped Mr Fuentes, but she wasn't sure that Robert would believe her. She knew that Robert had loved the feeling of power his skill as a surgeon had given him, and she knew that his injury had made him feel powerless.

He coughed a little. "I'm not sure I ever realized how really good you are," he said quickly.

"What?" she spluttered, taken aback by this turn of thought.

"You've always been very gifted, of course, but now, I really see what a true gift you have." He paused, "I send you cases that I know I could never have saved, and you save them. And I'm jealous, because I can't even try."

"Robert!" she tried to seize the sleeve of his lab coat as he stood to go. He wasn't looking at her. He was already walking quickly, and then he was gone.

Later that evening at his house the phone rang. Robert usually let Tess answer as the calls were now almost always for her, but she was in the shower, so he let the machine pick up.

"Robert, it's Elizabeth," her voice began. "I'm calling to thank you and Tess for your wonderful gift. Ella loved the story, and I'm working on my skills as a puppeteer. Anyway, Robert, about today. You're wrong."

Robert picked up, "Wrong about what?" he asked, not provokingly but gently.

"When you send me the tough cases, I'm still uncertain. I'm there in the OR as if I know what to do, but I so often don't. So I think about what you would do. And often I don't do that either," she laughed. "But it's as if working with you (or at least imagining I am) helps me to find my own way. I don't know if that makes sense, but..."


	3. ch 3

Elizabeth stopped, realizing that she was about to tell Robert that she imagined him with her very, very often. In surgery, of course, but also at home, after Ella was asleep, when she was alone. Wondering if he was alone. Wondering if his ache felt like her ache, if his emptiness could fill hers. Sometimes she closed her eyes, leaning back against the back of the couch as if it were his chest, strong and solid. She nestled into the cushions as if into the warmth of him, the warmth she knew was there despite his recent coldness to her. The heat. She let herself slip into the fantasy of the two of them finally finding each other, mouths meeting, bodies melting...She shook her head back to the here and now. Silence on the other end of the phone. Where was he? What was he thinking?

Swallow.

He must have heard her. Why didn't he help her? But why should he reach out when she had spent so long pushing him away?

"Robert?"

"I'm here... Look, it's late. I should let you go."

_I _called _you_, Elizabeth thought. But instead she said, "Right, then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he answered, neutrally, a bit quietly. And then he hung up. The loud echo of the dial tone in her ear surprised her. Hurt her. As if he had pushed her away physically. She felt winded, blindsided. She sat down on her couch, dropping the phone softly, and buried her head into the cushions.

The next day, in her office, Elizabeth felt him there. When she looked up, he was standing in the doorway looking at the floor. She cleared her throat.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark and quiet. Silence. She would let him break it. He cleared his throat. Nothing.

"Robert?" she couldn't help herself.

"I need a favor," he said in a low voice.

"Of course." Still nothing.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Looking at the floor again.

"Robert..." she repeated, this time with a note of impatience. Not that she minded him taking her time, but she minded him taking his time to ask her, as if she would ever turn him down. Except that she always had in the past. Just as she was about to try to say something encouraging he spat out,

"I need a letter. A letter of recommendation. Will you write it? Just something short and glowing about what a good surgeon I _was. _How I could still, well, still be useful somehow..." He started fast, words sputtering out and then slowing, looking back at the floor, awkward again.

"Of course I would, Robert," she replied warmly, happy to help him even in this seemingly insignificant way. "But what's this for?"

"Look. I don't want to talk about it. I'm not sure I even want to do it. But I need a letter," breaking eye contact again and then continuing more softly, "and you know me best."

"Robert, I want to help you. In any way I can. But I can't recommend you for a position without knowing what it is..." while trying to reassure him she realized she was staring to feel anxious. Was he talking about leaving County? Chicago? She needed him to tell her what was going on.

"Fine," he blurted, turning on his heel, "if you won't do it, I'll find someone else," and he was about to leave, when she rounded her desk and caught the sleeve of his lab coat.

He turned to face her. She was flushed, his eyes were glittering. "Please don't..." was all she could muster, not knowing what she was asking, almost asking him not to go, not to leave her.

She caught herself, still not letting go of his lab coat, still looking into his eyes, and said sincerely, "I'll do anything you ask. Anything you need me to do. I'll do it today if you want." She was still looking at him , almost breathless, wanting to offer herself to him, to give herself to him, just waiting for him to ask.

He stepped back, snagging his sleeve from her weakened grasp but not breaking eye contact. "Okay," he said, the word catching in his throat. "Okay then. Just put it in an envelope and leave it at the desk. Today or tomorrow..." He was edging into the hallway but still holding her in his gaze. "Thank you," he finished quietly before turning his head and walking away without looking back.

He fled quickly down two flights of stairs and into the lounge. Good. No one. God. He dropped heavily into the old, creaky sofa. Head in hands. Well one hand and one plastic hand. That had been...Awful.. He hated asking her for anything. It made him feel so weak. Just being near her made him feel weak. He wanted her so badly, but at the same time he needed her help to get away from her. And when he asked for her help, she had answered, "Anything." She would do anything for him. If only that were true. He closed his eyes tighter, trying to push the image away. Of Elizabeth giving herself to him, giving in to his desire, moving closer, bringing her hands to his face, pulling him towards her, him mirroring her movements, his fingertips buried in her hair, bringing her mouth to his...

He just wanted to kiss her, he told himself. If he just asked for that...Would it be too much for her to give him one kiss? A kiss goodbye...

He had seen him crutching across the waiting room and into the E.R. Nurses, doctors crowding around him for a tearful welcome, a hero's welcome. Home at last. Neela looks up at him, asking permission to leave the pile of charts they are reviewing to join her fiancé. He nods slightly, as if not acknowledging his own assent.

A few minutes later he hears the crutch clicking towards him. He doesn't want to look up into the mirror of another broken man. But when he hears the clicking stop just in front of him, he does look up, into the eyes of someone strong and solid.

"Michael," he says extending a hand.

"Doctor Romano," Gallant smiles warm but serious as he shakes his hand. Then nodding toward the chair next to him he asks, "May I?"

Romano nods and Gallant sits, but not without difficulty, bending the knee of his prosthetic leg. Romano winces, not wanting to say anything in sympathy but feeling nonetheless a knot of tears in his throat, pity for this young man but anger too at the stupidity of war. And envy that in the end Gallant still has what he really needs to be a doctor: two hands and a heart.

"My docs at the VA didn't want me to leave til I'd figured this thing out a little more, but I needed to get back," Gallant explains the awkward use of his titanium limb. "I wanted to talk to you."

Robert straightens, surprised, wondering if Gallant expects some sort of new friendship here, a fraternity of amputees. He feels in fact that Michael is the person he least wants to be around right now. He is the successfully recovered amputee, one coping with his loss, returning to life, to love, the opposite of Robert himself who has never accepted the accident and its consequences. And in the end Michael makes him feel ashamed that his own loss was a result of anger and carelessness while Gallant's was a result of valor.

"When I was at Walter Read, I was bounced around from surgeons to ortho guys to P.T.s to psych. I could negotiate the system, figure out who to ask for a change in my meds or a refit for the prosthetic. But these kids who come in hacked up and shell shocked and too brave to ask for anything, they don't know how to manage it. They think they're being taken care of, but there isn't one person really in charge of their care. Maybe a mother or a wife who writes down the names of all their docs and meds, but no one to work the system so that it really works for them, who can read their chart and look at their scans and really know why the brace isn't working or why their shoulder still aches or why the infection still won't go away." He pauses and looks right into Romano's eyes: "They need a head of amputee care, and I know of no one who could do the job better than you."

"Oh no," Robert feels himself saying, hands up in self-defense, "Whoa. You have got me very wrong, here. I don't know what Dr. Ragosthra's been telling you about my management skills in the E.R., but I am not exactly looking for new challenges right now." He swallows and then more quietly, "Much less am I looking to work with guys who've had half their bodies blasted off. I just can't do that. I..." And although he doesn't finish the sentence he thinks, "I can barely look at myself..."

"Michael. Thank you. Really. But I'm not looking for a new job, despite my questionable qualifications for this one."

He pauses again, looking down at Gallant's crutch and then up into his eyes, "I'm just not that brave," he shrugs and then starts to get up, to leave.

Gallant's quick, strong grip closes around his arm, gently but firmly keeping him captive for a moment more. Romano turns, bristling a little at this use of quiet force, but Gallant just extends a file folder to him with the other hand.

Romano looks at it, realizing he is being forced to take it with his prosthetic hand, a gesture he usually avoids. He does, to end the moment, and Gallant lets go.

That night, before Elizabeth's call, he had read it. About ten times. A job description in about three pages. He had skipped the army brochures and the general bullshit about the hospital's facilities. But he can't stop looking at a few polaroid photos and flipping them to read Gallant's notes on the back. Corporal Matt Sanger. Lost his hands defusing a land mine. Lost his left arm to an undiagnosed infection after discharge from the VA. ("Who's following up with these kids?" Romano thinks.) Specialist John Lee, lost his legs in a car bomb but refused to be fitted for prostheses. Wheelchair bound, severely depressed, shot himself one week post discharge. ("Shit." And then quietly, "But I know what that's like. That denial. That desperation.")

With that he decides to write a few e-mails, to start putting together his application, to start thinking about how he could change things, narrow the cracks, keep these guys from slipping through.


	4. ch 4

A bit bleary-eyed from an early morning with Ella, Elizabeth was stumbling toward the lounge and coffee when Kerry Weaver literally smashed into her.

"You coulda told me! You know, hey Kerry, just between us, you'd better start looking for a new ER chief," she yelled.

Elizabeth shook her head in blurrred surprise. 'Robert?' she thought. 'Well, there was that letter...'

"Look, Kerry, Robert never told me he was going to leave..." 'Robert gone?' she thought, 'Really?'

"Oh you can stop covering for him now, Elizabeth," Kerry spat with disdain. "And since we don't have anyone else to do it today, you can cover the ER for him!" she shouted over her shoulder as she crutched off in a huff.

After a bloody day in the ER Elizabeth understood Robert's frustration with Emergency Medicine all the more. Why hadn't he talked to her about it? The frustration of having to delegate all of the real patients to other departments. ER doctors seemed a lot like triage nurses to Elizabeth after her day of diagnosing MIs and GSWs. She sighed as she ripped off her last pair of gloves.

She heard Neela and Michael coming into the lounge as she opened her cell phone to call home. "So he took it?" Neela was asking. "Yep! And there are going to be a lot of grateful guys at the V.A.." Michael responded. "And not so grateful nurses, and interns, and residents..." Neela teased.

Elizabeth eavesdropped discreetly at first but then gave up and asked, "Are you talking about Robert?"

"Yes ma'am," Michael responded a bit ashamedly, remembering Neela's jibe.

"He's going to the VA then?" Elizabeth asked.

"He didn't tell you?" Neela piped.

"Not exactly," Elizabeth admitted, her lips tightening. "Very well then. I have to get home. For my daughter," she added brusquely and left the lounge.

Well at least he'll be across town and not in another city, she thought remembering the Chicago area V.A. where she'd done a consult. As dilapidated as County. He should feel right at home, she smiled.

But then she wondered, tensing, maybe he would be moving farther away. Michael's injuries had been treated in Washington, she recalled. What if...

Instead of driving straight home, Elizabeth called her nanny and then detoured by Robert's house. There was a moving truck in the drive, and she saw Tess from a distance with a bandana around her hair orchestrating the moving efforts. Elizabeth froze in shock. He _was_ going. And without a goodbye it would seem.

Dave was there, Ella and Katie asleep upstairs, but Elizabeth was having a hard time relaxing and enjoying the bottle of wine he had brought or his usually companionable presence. A light knock on the front door jarred her from her half-doze as she listened to Dave talk about his fifth-grade students' science projects.

Robert. There he was. A little shamefacedly looking down at the ground, but there he was all the same. Elizabeth's heart leapt with hope. Maybe...

"Robert!" she smiled. "Would you like to come in for a minute?"

"Nah..." he shrugged. "There's a car in the driveway. You have company. I just wanted to..."

She cut him off. Grabbed his hand to underscore her need for him not to go. "Just wait here a minute, then. I'll be right back." She hurried back to the kitchen, made a quick explanation to Dave, then returned to the front steps where Robert had taken a seat. She sat down beside him. Close. Then turned and looked at him. Smiled again, soft encouragement.

He cleared his throat, readying his little speech, then flexed his shoulder muscles, extended a cramped arm out before him, shook his head and stood again. He walked the two steps down so that he was looking up at Elizabeth, still seated expectantly in front of him.

"You know why I'm here..." he began slowly. Then, feeling much too far away from her to say what he had to say, he knelt so that their eyes were level and took her right hand in his.

"I've got to go," he explained quietly, almost sure of himself. He looked into her eyes steadily, convincing her, convincing himself of this necessity.

"But I wanted to thank you," he choked a little. 'For being..." he couldn't quite continue for a moment...

Elizabeth started to interrupt, but he dropped her hand shook his head to stop her from pulling him back towards her, from giving him any reason to stay.

With a slightly ironic smile, he continued. "You want to know why I gave you preferential treatment all those years?"

She nodded, smiling, curious but careful.

"Because," he stopped then started again, "I preferred you." He stood, smoothed his trousers. Then waved once, a quick parting gesture accompanied by a quickly fading smile. Turned his back on her. And he was gone.

Just before heading to Elizabeth's that night Robert had rifled through the few remaining boxes he hadn't sealed, then through his closet and a few drawers. He couldn't find those combs he had bought for her in Italy. Then he gave up. It didn't matter anymore.


	5. ch 5

She missed him. Their relationship had been rocky over the past months, well, years, but every so often that conspiratorial wink across a crowded ER had made her feel like there was one person in the world who understood her. And then there were those even rarer moments when he smiled at her, his eyes warm and deep, and she just wanted to melt into the moment with him before it was gone. But he was gone.

She sighed, leafing through the conference program, about to toss it into the trash, when she saw the session title: "New Approaches to Robotic-Assisted Prosthetic Implants." And his name. Maybe she would go to Washington after all...

"The technology might be there, but the costs of building and maintaining these devices is disproportionate to the implied gains to users. And of course if you think about it, with surgeons and engineers involved, the risk of malpractice claims doubles. If you just look at my data from 2003-2004..." a middle-aged man was objecting.

Robert pushed back loudly from the podium, sending it scratching a few feet across the stage. His notes slid down to the floor, but he ignored them and just shook his head in disgust.

"You know, I don't think that these guys really calculated the risks before they went to war to keep lab rats like you and me safe to continue on with our calculations. The risk they didn't count on was your utter lack of gratitude, your total unwillingness to try, to make a real effort to help them, to heal them. They should have factored in your completely self-involved surgeon's idea that if you can't fix it no one can...Forget it!" he finished pushing the last papers off the podium and storming off of the stage.

Elizabeth wanted to catch him, but then again maybe she didn't.

Later that evening she followed the sounds of music and laughter to a rec room in the basement of Walter Read Hospital.

_Lovely, never ever change _

_Keep that breathless charm_

_Won't you please arrange it_

_'Cause I love you _

_And the way you look tonight_

The strains of Sinatra became louder as she neared the open door. She peeked in and when she saw him broke into an irrepressible grin. He was dancing. Gliding around the room with a young woman in his arms. Well, there was only one arm involved really and three prosthetic limbs.

Of all of the dancing couples, Robert and the young woman were the most graceful. Their eyes were alight as they smiled at each other. Their feet seemed aloft, toes barely skimming the floor. She noticed his perfect posture, the lines of his arms leading his partner, every so often catchng her up as she stumbled through a step, laughing his encouragement.

At the end of the number, all of the couples fell back breathless and laughing. A few guys sitting along the sides of the room applauded. Someone changed the CD to soft jazz signalling a break and others cracked open cans of coke or bottles of water.

"Hey Doc!" someone called out to Robert and nodded in Elizabeth's direction. "I think someone's looking for dancing lessons."

Robert felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him although he wasn't at all winded from dancing. Elizabeth. Beautiful. Glowing. Warm. Real. There she was, smiling at him from across the room. And suddenly it was like he couldn't make his feet move to go to her. Like in a dream. A nightmare. He swallowed and wiped a hand across his eyes. She was still there. Her smile fading a little. So he pushed himself off across the floor to her. By the time he was there, he'd regained his sure, light step and held out his hand to her as if to invite her to dance. He smiled, warm but ironic.

She grasped his hand and pulled him to her into a hug that brought tears to both of their eyes. The embrace lasted a good, long while, while they both blinked back their unexpected emotions. Finally they pulled back a little, still holding hands with the slightest space between them.

"Hi," he almost whispered.

"Hi," she sighed, grateful for his gentleness.

Robert felt the silence in the room behind him. At least he had been spared any catcalls. He knew his patients were curious about him and his personal life. But he also knew that he had earned their respect by respecting their own privacy. Nonetheless, he decided to quickly curtail any interrogations by turning back to them and waving goodnight before pulling Elizabeth from the room and out towards the closest exit.

"Whew!" she caught her breath after being dragged a little unceremoniously down the hall.

"Sorry," he apologized, "but they've been trained in interrogation techniques. They would have gotten all of my secrets out of you!" he joked.

_But I don't really know your secrets, _Elizabeth thought. _Except maybe one..._

"So..." Robert coughed, clearing his throat. "What brings you to Doctor Bob's dance therapy session?" he ended with a smirk.

She laughed appreciatively. "Speaking of secrets, I never knew you were a dancer."

"Oh, I'm very old school. Mother made me take dance lessons. French. Fencing. All kinds of crazy crap. Sometimes the fencing comes in handy, though..." he mused.

_Ah. Our sparring... _she thought. _French_? she wondered. _I never knew..._

"You might've just punched him, you know," she said instead, realizing just as soon that he'd be confused by the non sequitur.

To clarify, she added, "I saw your other performance today. The one at the conference..."

She could see him cringe even in the shadows under the huge oak where they were standing.

"You were right, of course. Self-centered surgeons can't stand the thought that mere engineers could help their precious medical science."

Robert muttered, "Doesn't help to be right when they won't ever change."

"Hey!" Elizabeth encouraged. "You made me think about it. And some others, too, I'm sure. Forget that old coot."

"That old coot is the chief of surgery at Georgetown Medical Center," he shook his head. "Where I wanted to set up the lab for the new project. Damn!"

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. He looked so discouraged.

But then he threw it off, brightened. "Welcome to Washington !" he laughed. "It's all politics..." he slowed. "It's good to see you, Lizzie..."

"You too," she nodded smiling again. "You look..." she looked at him again, taking in his straight stance, broad shoulders, bright eyes "...great."

He didn't need to look at her to respond. "You too."

After a minute of silence, she smiled slyly, "So what's a girl to do on a Saturday night in this town?"

In the tiny restaurant, seated on the floor, he laughed as Elizabeth flushed bright pink at the spicy flavors of the Ethiopian delicacies spread before them. But taking pity, he quickly offered her his bottle of beer to put out the fire.

"Thanks," she sputtered.

"You said you liked it hot..." he half apologized, mostly amused at her guzzling back his drink. But then he got distracted by the movement of her throat as she swallowed, head thrown back, beads of perspiration trickling down her face and clinging to her jawline.

Once she had drained the bottle she clapped it down and grinned. Tearing off another piece of the sour pancake-like bread she boldly dipped back into the spicy stew. "It _is_ tasty!" she declared with a devilish grin. "But we'll need more beer!"

Strolling back to his place along dim, lamplit Georgetown streets, he toyed with the idea of touching her. Just a hand on her waist to guide her. But then he'd have to switch sides since said hand was too far to reach her. Besides, despite a little sway in her walk from the fifth beer, she was steady enough. Although when she stumbled on a buckle in the pavement, she did grab onto his shoulder for balance. And then let go just as soon

When they got to his house, he opened the garage and then the car door. Just a ride back to her hotel. He'd only managed to drink one beer, since she's kept pinching his, so he'd decided to help her walk it off for a bit and then to drive her back himself. He didn't want his tipsy Lizzie at the mercy of a DC cabbie at this hour. Or maybe he just wanted another few minutes with her. _Whatever, _he thought, _nothing's going to happen anyway._

She leaned back into the seat, turned slightly towards him and just gazed at him as he drove through the dark city. _So nice to be here_, she mused half-drunk still. Her eyes fluttered closed just as they arrived at the Marriott's awning. He shook her shoulder gently.

"Lizzie. We're here."

She stretched and yawned and then shook her head, "I'm so sorry. I fell asleep? I fell asleep." She yawned again.

"It's alright," he joked. "At least you stayed awake through dinner."

"Robert," she objected, "I had a great time!"

"While I set your mouth on fire," he apologized, then grimaced a bit thinking how that had just sounded and hoping that she was too gone to notice that he was staring at her mouth. _Oh Christ_ he thought, wincing, _does she think I tried to get her drunk tonight? _But he remembered that _she'_d been stealing _his_ beers.

She reached over and took his hand. "I had a lovely time," she said seriously, looking straight into his eyes, not drunk at all. And then she leaned in and kissed him. Gently. On the mouth. She quickly broke away and darted from the car. She closed the door but then leaned into the open window as Robert's heart slowly returned to its usual steady rhythm. "I'm leaving early, but..."

He shook his head to stop her, put his hand up between them. "Don't, Elizabeth...Just have a safe trip."

And to her surprise he let the car begin to roll away.

But as he drove off, not looking back, he savored the lingering spiciness of her kiss still on his lips, on his tongue...


	6. Chapter 6

Clicking through his countless e-mails, one of them caught his attention. _She fits the profile...Will you do it? Please reply._

It was from Elizabeth. With a patient file attached. Allison MacAllister. A young woman, a vet, a recent amputee. Her chronic infections from contact with the conventional prosthethesis made walking with it impossible. But with the new prototype that Robert's team was assembling...

He called her. Three months since he'd heard her voice. Not that he hadn't reached for the phone every night for a week after she'd left. But each time he remembered that he had come to DC to sever that tie, to cut it off. He was haunted by the phantom pain though. He had to remind himself that unlike a missing limb, Lizzie had never really been a part of him.

"Hello," she answered.

"Hi," he began.

"Robert," she breathed, knowing his voice just from the timbre, the tone.

"We just have to size it down. No big deal. I can have the team ready next week. We'll do the surgery in Chicago, at County even, damn it..." he spat bitter that he his project would begin at the bottom of the medical heap, "but she will have to come here for her rehab," he ended more pragmatically.

"Hmmm," Elizabeth pondered, quickly processing the information. "I don't know. Her family's here. She's quite fragile, emotionally..."

"We have what she needs," he interrupted. "Not just physical therapy and the engineering team to help with the modifications, but counseling, support, you know. All that fuzzy stuff I hate. And there's a place for her parents to stay as long as they want."

"They work here. I'm not sure," Elizabeth faltered.

"Well get sure or don't call me," Robert huffed.

"I didn't call you," she corrected mildly, trying to calm him.

"I'm sorry," he recanted, realizing that his harshness was not a result of Elizabeth's incomplete assessment of the case but rather his discomfort in speaking with her after so long. Perhaps his anger at himself for having called her at all.

"Look, Lizzie," he continued, "If we're going to work together, I'm going to have to get a grip. And us working together...I'm not sure if it's such a good idea..."

"Well get sure!" she laughed, "Because we _are_ going to make this happen. I'll call you tomorrow after I reconfirm with Allison, but I've already sold her on you. She's ready for this. She _wants_ to try again. And she's been through a lot..."

"They all have," Robert ended soberly.

"But she's my patient. And I have to push for her," Elizabeth affirmed.

"Maybe that's where I get it from," he mused.

"Get what?"

"My pushiness."

Elizabeth laughed but he continued, "I never really advocated for my surgical cases. Here that's all I do. I didn't know how at first, but I remembered what you were like. With the Beaumont case, with so many others..."

She didn't know how to respond. Silence.

"Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I guess," he ended.

"Okay," she was saying when he hung up.

After a successful surgery thanks to Robert's precision direction of his team (like a maestro conducting his orchestra, Elizabeth had thought), Elizabeth followed Allison to recovery while Robert talked to her parents. When she went to find them he was still there.

He looked a little guilty when she entered the room, like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. Caught in the act of caring, she thought.

Once the MacAllisters had left to meet Allison in her new room, Elizabeth turned to Robert. "Dinner?" she asked.

"Hmmmm, he responded, "I promised the team steaks at Charlie Trotter's. You could come, too," he offered.

She shrugged a little, not too impressed with the last minute invite. "I should probably spend some time with Ella tonight anyway. I've been here overtime arranging our endeavor, and I haven't seen enough of her...But if dinner ends at a reasonable hour, maybe you could stop by for coffee," she suggested.

"Decaf," he smiled in acceptance.

Tess would be diappointed in him if she were here. She had left for New York a few weeks before, her internship completed and a gallery job waiting for her there. However, she still talked to Robert often and had visited him twice in DC. The last time, over dinner, she had finally said, "I'm so glad you're here. It was too hard for you there." When he raised his eyebrows to question her, she continued, "It was too hard to start over. At work. And with life. You needed to move past her, I mean it..." she fumbled, but Robert knew who she meant. "And you have, I think," Tess smiled, recalling that brief brush in the hospital hallway with the pretty brunette who had smiled so warmly at her uncle. But how could he say no to an invitation from Elizabeth?

Later, then, he found himself in her living room, drinking decaf and feeling a litle bit guilty in a different sort of way. There had already been several silences between them, moments when he felt Elizabeth shifting toward him, waiting for him to move toward her on the couch. But he just couldn't close that gap...

Suddenly they heard from upstairs a thud and a cry and then quiet. Elizabeth jumped to her feet and he followed her up to Ella's bedroom, where they found the girl sweating and heaving in a little pile on the floor. When Robert found the light and flipped it on, he saw that Ella's nightgown was soaked in watery vomit and that her complexion was so pale she was almost green. He rushed to her and picked her up, out of her mother's arms. "Get your car keys and your phone. We're going in."

Robert ran from the house, grabbing an afghan from the couch on his way. Elizabeth opened the door to the van and strapped Ella into the seat as Robert leapt in beside her, tucking her into the blanket for warmth and then cleaning her face gently with one corner of it. As Elizabeth sped out of the driveway, he whispered reassuring words into Ella's ear, stroking her sweaty hair as he repeated, "It's going to be okay. We're going to take care of you, make you all better."

Into the ER, blood tests that the child was too weak to protest and a fast IV for rehydration. Relief to find that it was a simple although severe case of food poisoning. When they found Ella a room and wheeled her in, she was already deep asleep. Elizabeth fell into a chair and just put her head into her hands, completely spent. Robert stood awkwardly in the door frame, waiting to decide whether he should stay or go.

But when he heard her crying, he couldn't leave and knelt next to her chair, putting an arm around her waist as she drooped her head onto his shoulder. He reached up to hug her neck. "It's okay, Lizzie," he whispered repeatedly in the same reassuring tone he had used with Ella. And after a while she nodded and straightened, putting on a brave if crooked smile.

"Thank you," she began, but then started helplessly sobbing again, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Robert had stood up and now reached for her hand, pulled her to her feet and then into a warm, long hug. "It really is okay," he said firmly, but her crying only intensified.

Finally, she stepped back and laughed through a last sob. "You must think I've lost it," she smiled ruefully if tearfully.

"No..." he began.

She sat on the second bed in the darkened room, looked out the window and continued, "It just reminded me of the last time I brought her into the ER, and I just felt again how hard it is to protect her, and ..."

"You don't have to explain,' Robert interrupted and sat by her side.

"Stay," she asked but without much of a question in her voice.

"Uh-huh," he agreed quietly, as they moved to lie down together on the bed, propped on the pillows, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

But in the morning he was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Lying alone in the bed in his hotel room, Robert was unable to sleep. The early morning light filtered in through the curtains, but since his eyes were closed, it couldn't be the light that was keeping him awake.

He didn't feel guilty, just strange, like the whole world had changed without him having noticed.

So he tried to find in his mind the last moment when he felt clear, sure….

He was lying in her bed with the same sort of morning light glowing through onto the bed. Bright enough so that he could see his own fingers twined through her dark shining curls, the contrast of her dark, curling eyelashes against her milky cheek, the juicy red of her small, soft mouth with its plump, plummy lips. That sweet, sleeping face, heart-shaped, shaped exactly to fit his heart.

"Annie," he sighed now, and smiled, opening his eyes to rollover and look at the clock. Too early to call her, he thought, as he nonetheless felt his need for her growing, aroused by the memory of her body, soft and warm against his, of her low, loving voice, of her gentle, open smile.

Just after Elizabeth had left Washington, he had met her. Well, he had met her three months before that, but he hadn't really noticed. Then one day, after a staff meeting he looked up and she was still in the conference room, framed by the doorway. "Want to get some lunch?" she'd asked. Robert had been caught off guard. "Ummm, why?" he answered flatly, assuming she had some agenda although not knowing what it would be. Getting a new sound system into the budget, maybe a live band for her dance classes. Robert still had trouble considering the foxtrot a therapy that could really treat his patients, although he did have fun showing off during the classes.

"Because I'm hungry," she laughed in response. "Oh yeah, and because I'd like to talk to you about your rhumba."

"My…oh, yeah, well, in that case…" he smiled, still unsure, but willing to see what she had in mind. She led him to her car, an old, open top jeep, and they took off, without too many words, just exchanging another smile, albeit a wary one from him.

She took him to a hole in the wall, a pizza place across from a school yard where kids were running and screaming during their own lunchtime. After they settled at a hightop table just outside the door, she explained, "Chicago-style. In case you were homesick."

"Not too much," he replied as he bit into the thick slice. He looked across to the playground.

"Nice school," he snarked.

'I think so," she replied, "I teach there."

"Oh," he answered, a bit embarrassed but not too much since he wasn't really concerned about making an impression on her. He let the conversation languish, chewing on his pizza, alternating sips of coke through his straw.

"You dance well for a doctor," she slipped in, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she sipped her own coke.

"What? And doctors can't be dancers? Did you know that Fred Astaire was a podiatrist before he met Ginger," he attempted.

She laughed. A laugh that included everyone around her. He noticed her eyes when she did. Huge and warm and deep.

She quieted then, thoughtful for a moment, "I just didn't think surgeons came to their patients' dance lessons. You care about them more than I'd expected."

"I'm not a surgeon," he said softly.

"I'm not a therapist," she answered, "but we manage to help them anyway," with that she got up and tossed her plate in the trash, reached back and grabbed his, too. She turned to him a second time and then walked back over, leaning toward him against the tabletop. "I actually have to get back to work," she said softly nodding toward the school. "Will you be able to find your way back on the metro?" she asked with more concern than necessary in her voice.

He nodded, smiled as if to dispel the sudden dark mood that had fallen back over him, clouding the bright day. "It's a tough town, but I'll be alright."

She nodded as he stood and they walked toward the street corner together. "Thanks for lunch," he finished, although they had each paid for their own.

"Don't mention it," she joked looking back at the grubby little pizza place. She was about to cross the street when she stopped and looked up at him with those big, soft eyes. "Do you have, well, a rule, about dating people you work with?" she asked quickly and softly, sincere and just a little breathless.

Robert felt the irony but in a painful way as if fate were teasing him, reminding him of his bad luck with the ladies. Even before he'd lost his job and his arm, he had obviously been considered a poor jerk, a loser whom Elizabeth had lied to to avoid his advances. Had she and Peter laughed about him after? Was this woman laughing at him now?

In the long silence, her face had turned pink, flushed with the heat of the warm April day and with the discomfort of the sticky situation she'd gotten herself into.

"Well, I should get to work. You know those kids…Can't wait to waltz…" she joked awkwardly, pressing the button to change the traffic light, hoping, praying that it would turn red so she could run.

As it did, at the last minute he caught her hand. "Nnno," he mumbled looking at her hand in his and avoiding her eyes. "No rules like that."

She squeezed his hand back, wiggled her fingers out of his and took off across the street. When she'd crossed, she looked back, smile, waved. "See you Thursday then," she called gaily, the scarf in her hair floating in the breeze. Thursday was her class at the hospital. He'd been attending for weeks without noticing her, slipping in and out, just to cheer up a few of his patients with a quick whirl about the room. He smiled and nodded as she turned back to go. Then he watched her scarf trail behind her like a blue breeze as she went through the door, through the metal detector, to work.

They had drinks that week and dinner twice. She invited him to her place the second time where he met her son. A good-looking kid, a young teenager, confined to a wheelchair as a result of a car accident.

After dinner, when Charlie had excused himself with the excuse of math homework ("Calling his girlfriend," Annie had whispered to Robert so as not to embarrass her kid), they took coffee to the couch. "He's terribly dutiful. Calls her every night after dinner. Ah! Young love!" she laughed.

Robert didn't respond, uncomfortable at the obvious issue of this paralyzed boy's romantic prospects. Wondering now whether this woman's interest in him came from some obligation to show her son that a normal woman could be with a disabled man.

"Robert," she questioned, touching his arm gently. She was looking at him, that concern in her eyes that was so different from pity. It was instead a searching, a look that said tell me, tell me everything so that I can understand.

He shook his head and tried to pick up from where she'd left off, "Do you think he loves her?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Well of course he does," Annie retorted in an indignant tone he'd never heard before, moving slightly away from him on the sofa. Then she softened, explaining while looking away across the room at the family photos on the mantel, "Charlie's always had this huge heart. He still loves the father who left when he couldn't handle the time and money and pain of his son's seven surgeries. He loves the brother who moved out because he didn't approve of me having a boyfriend after years of spending every night at home alone with them." She shook her head, tearful, "And he loves me, even if sometimes I'm so stupid, I pretend there's nothing wrong, and that his life is just what I'd always wanted for him." She had lowered her head, shaking it slightly as she spoke, her curls floating, almost distracting Robert from seeing a tear drip off the tip of her nose.

"Annie," he reached out.

'No," she shook her head, objecting only slightly when he put his arms around her. "He doesn't feel sorry for himself," she choked out, "You shouldn't have to feel sorry for me," she whimpered as she nonetheless pressed her cheek against his shoulder and let him rock her gently in his arms.

She finally moved out of his embrace and smiled at him through tear-starred lashes. "You're such a good man," she told him.

Robert shook his head, but she continued, "I've been watching you. For a while now. You heal people. You show them how to be as strong as you are."

He laughed at that. "Oh, I'm probably one of the weakest men you'll ever meet," he laughed, more at himself than at her.

She looked at him for a moment, smiled and then laid her cheek back against his shoulder, closing her eyes, leaning on him as if to prove that he was indeed the strong one.

"Am I going to have to show you how weak I am?" he whispered. She nodded, smiling, her eyes still closed. He bent his neck then, to gently kiss just the top of her head, breathing in her curls, nuzzling her with his lips and nose, kissing her hair again. She looked up finally, eyes gleaming. She slid a hand up to stroke his cheek, gently, then with that same soft, warm hand she brought his face to hers, moved her mouth onto his, kissed him, sweetly, gently.

The world had gone quiet around them, and after they separated, she stayed close, her arms around his neck, her forehead resting against his chin.

"It's late," he finally said.

"Then stay," she answered.

A few months later, he noticed that he was staying with her almost every night. They were lovers but they were also and very importantly friends. He spent the last few hours of each workday distracted, looking forward to meeting her after work to shop and cook together, to eat dinner outside in her backyard, sometimes with Charlie sometimes not. They would share the news of their days and then listen to NPR as they washed dishes, commenting on world news, stopping mid-commentary to kiss over a sinkful of soap bubbles.

They often shared long baths in her tub, sipping glasses of dark red shiraz or a good Argentinian rioja. Then bed, of course. Bed where they loved each other as quietly as possible, although Charlie was far away in his room at the back of the ground floor. Neither of them could quite contain their pleasure though, their satisfaction at the deep and delicate sensations each discovered in the other's body. Robert had never let anyone this close to him before, never trusted so completely a lover, never allowed a woman to know how to unmake him, how to open his soul to her, had never allowed anyone to fill him as completely as she did.

They were happy. He felt stunned at the everyday realization, looking across the table at her in the morning over the front page of the Post as she munched her granola and read the Arts section. She gave him a calm, a peace he'd never known. Although in many ways a fiercely independent spirit, she took care of him in a doting, darling manner, choosing his ties at night, smoothing his lapels in the morning. She let him knot the ties himself though, since he was so expert at it now with his prosthetic. She would sometimes straighten the knot just before he left, but more as an excuse for a last kiss, tiptoeing just slightly to reach his nose with her lips. She made him feel strong, as strong as she believed he was.

But strength, he was coming to see, didn't lie within either of them but rather in the two of them together, in the laughter they shared, in the passion, but also in the compassion they offered each other when one had a hard day at work, a doubt about a patient or a student, a disappointment of any kind. His arm around her as the walked down a dark, Washington street made him feel like her protector. But he was the one who felt truly safe in the home she had made for him in her heart.

He had almost tossed it all away, however, almost given it all up last night with Lizzie, lying next to her on that hospital bed as she curled against him. Her loneliness, her need for him drew him to her. He found her suddenly so gorgeous again with her red hair flying furiously, her eyes red-ringed with tears, her voice a broken whisper. But their embrace was awkward, her body out of proportion to his, her arms all angles against him.

For years, she had fed off of his frustrated adoration, growing more beautiful the longer he loved her without having her. When he had reached for her, of course she had pulled away. That had been their dance. And now when she reached for him, he wanted to be there for her, to offer the comfort to her that she had refused to him. But that was all.

What he now felt for Elizabeth was a sort of loyalty, as if his heart did not want to dishonor the memory of what he had so long considered to be love. But love, he had learned, was not the unrequited anguish he had felt for so long. That aching for her had really been a way to protect himself from being hurt by anyone else. Elizabeth had hurt him, and Annie had healed him. His true loyalty lay, in the end and forever with her.

The evening of his return to Washington, a sticky summer night, he accompanied Annie to a dance recital at the school where she taught ballet to kids who mostly danced to hip hop, who had never before her been taught to see themselves as swans. After the performance in which several students tripped on each other but managed in the end to move gracefully through most of their numbers, Annie beamed. Backstage, where he waited for her, she hugged them all, promising to see them in September, letting proud parents take pictures of their kids in their costumes gathered around their favorite teacher.

'Thanks for putting up with all that," she apologized as they left the school grounds after dark, holding hands as they walked homeward.

Robert smiled even though she couldn't see him in the shadows. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said sincerely, pulling her to him and into a tight embrace.

"Your life is my life," he whispered fervently into her hair.

She pulled back with a smile, and he could see her eyes sparkle in the moonlight. "Then you'll be coming to these recitals every spring until you're dead," she laughed at him.

"I love you," he answered.


End file.
